


The Long and Winding Road

by cerealkiller0



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU season 3, Idiots in Love, Lonely Immortals, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-10-12 05:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17461385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerealkiller0/pseuds/cerealkiller0
Summary: They struck deal. Lucifer rarely considered the consequences of his actions. And Marcus was just so tired of life, that he would suffer anything that got him closer to his goal. They weren’t prepared for what came next.





	1. Chapter 1

The thing that Marcus Pierce hadn’t considered was the level of intimacy that would be involved in letting Lucifer murder him over and over again.

With as many times as he had died -and not died - both by his own hand and others, Pierce knew he would be exposed to Lucifer in ways that would make most men cringe away in shame. Dying wasn’t pretty, and the smells and sounds were often even worse. 

He had expected Lucifer’s revulsion. Lucifer was fastidiously clean, meticulous about both his personal appearance and his spaces. However, Lucifer surprised him. After the first round of poisoning, Pierce threw up on a pair of likely thousand dollar shoes and the only reaction he’d elicited from Lucifer was little more than a long suffering and overly dramatic sigh. 

“Darling, Christian made these for me exclusively!”

Pierce had also expected Lucifer’s pity. That is if the Devil were capable of such a thing. He kept tossing Lucifer sidelong glances at the station when he thought he could get away with it. Waiting for the looks. Or, if not pity, then at least his mockery. Pierce might not be able to die, but he did still feel pain. He was human, albeit immortal, and there was only so much pain a body could endure before giving in to screaming, crying, begging, sniveling. And give in he had.

He waited days after the chainsaw for Lucifer to bring up his screaming, mewling, pleading as some kind of humiliating joke. He waited for the shoe to drop, for Lucifer to turn his weakness into the butt of some joke at the station. Pierce was ready for it. He knew he could shrug it off. He didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about him, especially a self-centered pompous ass like Lucifer. 

He’d even gone so far as to shout that at Lucifer in his office the week after the incident, tired of having this feeling hanging over his head. He’d been rewarded at first with a bewildered glance that was quickly covered with a smirk.

“I’m the Lord of Hell, Marcus. I would have been offended if you hadn’t screamed.”

Pierce also expected Lucifer to put as much thought and detail into this project as he did into his police work. That is to say, diving headlong into the aspects he found enjoyable - terrorizing suspects and repeated murdering Cain - and vanishing completely when the mundane details like paperwork or cleaning up the floor after a round of exsanguination rolled around.

What Marcus hadn’t expected was to wake up from each horror story ending - complete with chainsaws, poisons, electrocutions, burning, hanging, crucifying- to a downy soft mattress, low lighting, warm blankets, and the gentle notes of Beethoven drifting in from the next room.

The music typically stopped within minutes of him waking. Marcus hadn’t quite drummed up the nerve to ask Lucifer how he always seemed to know exactly when he’d crossed the threshold into consciousness. He didn’t assume he’d get a straight answer if he did.

Lucifer would shut the piano, stand, stretch, and Marcus would watch, lying on the Devil’s own bed waiting for his approach. Usually at this point too weak to move more than a few inches and feeling torn between despair at not finding his answer and the faintest hint of relief that he wasn’t alone. Even if the company wasn’t someone he was certain he could trust.

Lucifer’s first words to him as he seated himself at the edge of the bed were always the same.

“Perhaps next time, darling,” Lucifer’s voice far more gentle than Marcus had any right to expect. The hand that would card through his hair was even gentler, caressing Marcus like he was something valued, precious. 

And Marcus, who had perfected the art of careful distance centuries ago, with each failed murder/suicide attempt, would lean further and further into Lucifer’s touch.

Each time feeling a wave of hopeless self disgust as he did so. 

*****

Lucifer had a plan. It was a simple one. His most diabolical plans usually were. Piss off the old man by murdering the unkillable Cain.

It was a good plan. With this one act he could accomplish many things and he was nothing if not efficient. In addition to spitting in the eye of the almighty, he’d be fulfilling a deal, demonstrating to his insufferably angelic brother that he could not be controlled or manipulated in whatever test Amenadiel believed he was on, and he was fairly certain repeated murder was as good a behavior as any to lose those blasted wings for good. Oh, and he got to scratch an itch he’d had since leaving hell one made worse by the recent loss of his devil face. A rather dark and twisted impulse he usually hid behind layers of bright and flashy smiles and outlandish behavior. Marcus Pierce was a sinner. Lucifer had been designed to punish. Killing Pierce settled something inside of Lucifer that he hadn’t even known was amiss until the first strike of his blade, straight through Pierce’s heart.

He’d had an initial jolt of doubt after that first death. Pierce stayed dead for close to twenty minutes after being stabbed, lying on the floor perfectly still. It had given Lucifer a chance to work his way through nearly a half a bottle of Macallan. When Pierce finally gave a great heaving jolt on his return to the land of living, Lucifer wasn’t sure if he felt more relief that he hadn’t killed a man in error or smug satisfaction that he had been right.

Pierce’s weariness has surprised him. Lucifer couldn’t quite understand Pierce’s desire. Lucifer himself had been born an immortal. He had no expectation of death, though the novelty of it had been rather exciting. He had been alive far longer than Cain. He’d seen the deaths of stars and collapses of galaxies, and eternity settled across him like a well worn jacket. He’d decided to live each day as he pleased from now on. When he got bored of this life, he was quite certain he’d find something else to try. 

He felt remiss in not pointing out to Pierce that an eternity in Hell was likely going to be just as tedious as a cursed life on Earth. What he suspected was that Pierce wasn’t interested in death so much as an end to his existence. Unfortunately, Lucifer was fresh out of flaming swords.

He’d anticipated the blush would wear off the rose and his thrill at regularly offing Pierce would dissipate, but each evening spent with the man was only making him more eager for his next attempt. Sure, he felt no closer to solving the problem of Pierce’s immortality, but each time Pierce’s eyes would open after his inevitable resurrection there would be a flash of openness in his gaze and Lucifer felt as though another layer of this closed off man was being stripped away.

At first, it was a means to and end. Pierce didn’t do vulnerable. These deaths weren’t killing him, but but they were giving Lucifer delicious glimpses past the man’s hardened exterior. One step closer to finding the weakness that would allow him to die. 

But something changed, Lucifer increased the frequency of the attempts. Spending more and more time covertly watching Pierce revive after each failed attempt. 

Lucifer couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but in that first moment between death and life, something about Pierce changed.

Lucifer couldn’t explain it, or the warmth that surged inside of him when Pierce’s eyes would first open and and meet his with that open, vulnerable look. 

He was certain that if he solved this mystery he would be one step closer to to ending Pierce’s misery. 

And also maybe one step closer to figuring out what that ache in his chest when Pierce’s expression closed back off was about.


	2. Chapter 2

Marcus woke with a start. It took him a moment to orient to his surroundings. Plush mattress, butter soft sheets, the hint of aftershave that didn’t belong to him. Funny. He didn’t feel like he’d died just now. And yet, here he was in Lucifer’s bed anyway. 

He groaned and pushed himself into a seated position, blinking rapidly in the dim lighting, and startled slightly upon realizing that Lucifer was fast asleep beside him. 

He’d fallen asleep here before. Usually after any attempts involving blood loss or removal of internal organs. Those always left him feeling a little on the woozy side until he’d slept it off. 

Lucifer beside him though was something he’d only experienced once before, during their fake marriage stint. 

The penthouse was eerily silent. A glance down at his watched told him he should at least hear the muffled, pulsing thrum of LUX below.  The club should still be in full swing for another hour at least.

“Mr. Morningstar?” A hesitant voice called out from the elevator. 

Marcus scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to coax himself into alertness. His brain was slowly finding its gear. The ding of the elevator had probably woken him.

“Mr. Morningstar?... Uh Lucifer? Sir? We need you down stairs.” The hesitant voice was now bordering on terrified panic.

Marcus scowled at both the deferential tone and the barely concealed panic, wondering what kind of club emergency required Lucifer’s attention. Unruly pole dancers? An olive shortage? He elbowed Lucifer hard. “Wake up. You’ve got a visitor.”

Lucifer merely groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. 

When no further response was forthcoming, Marcus kicked him instead. “Get up. Someone’s at your door.”

Lucifer rolled over to glare at him. “Is that all? Then tell them to bloody well BUGGER OFF!” 

Marcus winced as the last part was shouted in close range to his ear, in the general direction of the elevator door. He’d opened his mouth to curse back at him, but was cut off by the reluctant visitor, a twiggy looking kid Pierce vaguely recognized as a barback, now making his way towards the bedroom. 

“Uh. I would Mr. Morningstar, but there is a problem downstairs. Patrick said I needed to find you right away.” 

Lucifer sighed and slowly lifted himself up to a seated position right next to Pierce. “Well, you’ve found me Danny. After I explicitly stated I was not to be bothered this evening, on punishment of death or dismemberment, so which shall it be?”

Danny offered a quick glance to Pierce, who stared impassively back at him. Finding no quarter there, he nervously glanced between Lucifer’s scowling face and the elevator door. “Uhh. It’s just… there’s-”

“For the love of all that is unholy, spit it out!”

“Theyfoundgirloverdosedinthebathroom. Andtheparamedicsareontheway. Patrick said I should call the cops and he needs you downstairs right away!” Danny spat out in a rush before turning on his heels and running towards the elevator. 

Pierce frowned. “Do you terrorize all of your employees or is he a special case?”

“Hmm?” Lucifer responded absently as he stood, shaking out a button down shirt he’d left next to the bed. “Well I thought it prudent to discourage any visitors on the evenings you were here. I’d prefer my employees not to walk in on the attempted murder of a police Lieutenant. They might get the right idea.”

Pierce stood up as well, gratified to note he was still mostly dressed, even if it was in borrowed sweatpants. “And so you gave them the wrong idea?”

“You know I don’t lie.” Lucifer chided. “I told them that you and I were engaged in certain activities that might be frowned upon at the precinct and that we were to be left undisturbed for the duration of your stay. I also made certain that no one would mention the frequency or duration of your comings and goings.”

Pierce heaved a put upon sigh. “You made certain they think we’re fucking up here.”

Lucifer grinned broadly. “Well it is  _ me. _ ”

“Just great.” Pierce muttered, glancing around for his shoes. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, darling. They actually think it’s more torrid affair than clandestine fuck fest. Though the Brittanies have commented that it is such a shame that you are so hopelessly closeted. They are deeply concerned about my emotional well being, since you aren’t ready to be your true self.” Lucifer replied mockingly. “They seem to think a nice orgy would help you be more open to your desires. I told them I’d run the idea past you.”

Pierce growled in response.

“A no then?” Lucifer nodded with a smirk. “I’ll let them down gently then. I told them you probably wouldn’t be ready to share me just yet.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, Pierce ignored the comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand. “Were you listening at all to what he said?” He questioned, gesturing to the elevator door as he finally located his missing shoes, tucked halfway under the piano. 

“Yes, yes. Medical drama downstairs. Needed immediately. Medics and law enforcement on route.” Lucifer returned, smoothing out the front of his now buttoned shirt. “I’m hardly more qualified than the paramedics to see to the girl, from the sounds of it, Patrick has already shut down LUX, and the police,” Lucifer dramatically waved a hand in Pierce’s direction, “has already arrived.” 

Pierce had to give him that. “Fine. Let’s just go see what the hell is going on down there.”

“Splendid.” Lucifer returned, styling an errant curl as he brushed past Pierce towards the elevator. “Come along, then, Marcus. Mustn’t keep them waiting.”

Pierce simply ground his teeth, biting back his frustration as he followed after. 

Downstairs in the club, his night only seemed to get worse. The girl was dead.

The only bright spot seemed to be that Lucifer’s employees all seemed eager and willing to help.

Patrick was a surprisingly competent bar manager, he’d secured the crime scene, had the Brittanies corral any patrons that had contact with the dead girl, and organized the valets to get the rest of the crowd out of the building. The skittish kid from earlier, Danny, apparently also moonlighted as LUX’s tech guru and had pulled the evening’s security footage for him.

The security footage was helpful. What on first glance appeared to be a simple bathroom OD, turned out to be anything but. The bruising on the girl had clearly indicated that she’d been held down and forcibly injected. Unfortunately the footage outside the bathroom only showed the back of their suspect, but it at least gave a general build that would help with ruling out at least some of the club goers caught on camera that night. Pierce put in a call to narcotics to send over any information on similar drugs in the morning once the victim’s toxicology report was in. 

Next, he put in a call to Decker. He wanted her working this, mostly because he knew Lucifer wouldn’t take this happening at LUX lightly, and she was the only one who sometimes managed to reign him in. 

“...mmph. Hello?” A groggy voice answered.

Pierce glanced down at his watch.  **_4:18._ ** Damn. “Decker. It’s Pierce. Sorry. I didn’t look at the time. There is a case. Some kind of drug operation gone sour from the looks of things. We’ve got a body, made to look like an overdose at LUX.”

“What?! I-I can get there within the hour. Is Lucifer with you? How’s he taking it?”

Pierce grunted negatively at that. “Don’t be stupid Decker. I want you on this first thing in the morning. I’ve got it handled on this end for now. Lucifer is here. He’s…” Pierce faltered at this. He’d lost track of Lucifer once they made it into the club. Lucifer had begun questioning the few patrons held back while Pierce had checked in with the coroner and review the security footage. He scanned the room. Lucifer was sitting alone now, at his piano, not playing just staring blankly at the keys. His employees kept glancing at him in concern. Some kept shooting Pierce meaningful looks. Pierce sighed. “He’ll be alright. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you.” Decker’s voice held a note of relief.

Pierce gave a half smile. “Get some rest. I’m dumping him on you first thing in the morning.” He hung up without waiting for a response. 

“Lieutenant Pierce?”

The bar manager was back. Pierce tore his gaze from Lucifer and faced the other man. “What do you need Patrick?”

“Nothing, sir. Just wondering if I can kick everyone else out and send the staff home.” He offered a dazzling smile. “It’s getting late. Even for us.”

“Yeah. You guys can go. We appreciate the help.” Pierce said sincerely.

Patrick waved off the thanks. “There isn’t much we wouldn’t do for Lucifer.” He turned to go, but then hesitated at the last second. “He takes it pretty hard when shit goes down here… I know he seems to make a joke about everything, but he always does right by us. He might be the only one who lives here, but we all call this place home. Take care of him will ya?”

Pierce thought back to his earlier conversation with Lucifer. The looks he’d received from his staff, the deferential way they’d all addressed him, even this request was based on the half truths Lucifer had told them. They assumed Pierce was his lover. He looks around the room again. 

This wasn’t staff waiting for a polite dismissal. These were worried friends, making sure one of their own was alright before they left.

Pierce almost cursed his own presence here. If they weren’t expecting him to take the lead, he’d bet good money at least one of the people here would have already approached Lucifer and distracted him with sex and fun and Lucifer would be well on his way back to his usual devil may care attitude. 

He also got the sense that if he didn’t fix it, they’d never leave. 

Oh well. He’d already pretended to be married to the man once. What was one more night of lies in the grand scheme of things?

“Get everyone out, Patrick.” He clapped his hand on the younger man’s back as he passed. “I’ll take Lucifer back upstairs.”

He made his way to the piano, mindful of the eyes all watching his progress and stepped behind Lucifer, bringing both hands down onto his shoulders and squeezing firmly. “Come on Lucifer. Let’s go back to bed.”

Lucifer twisted in his seat to glance up at Pierce. He caught a flash of anguish mixed with rage that was quickly covered by an overly flirtatious grin. “Why darling, I thought you’d never ask.”

Pierce just stared impassively back, waiting for the false smile to drop back off Lucifer’s face. When it did, all that was left behind was weariness. “I called Decker. She’s going to be on this first thing when she gets in to the office. For now, sleep.”

Lucifer stood. Pierce, still mindful of his audience, kept a hand on Lucifer’s back and propelled him into motion towards the elevator to the penthouse. 

Lucifer wasted no time stripping back down to his underwear once they were back in his apartment.

Pierce found himself watching and quickly looked away, focusing on trying to find his helmet so he could head back to his motel room and at least shower and change before heading back to work.

“What are you doing?” Lucifer questioned from the doorway to his bedroom. 

“Going home,” Pierce replied. 

Lucifer cocked his head to the side. “What on Earth for? That flea ridden motel you are occupying can hardly be as comfortable as here.”

“Yeah, but the company is more tolerable.” Pierce muttered darkly. 

A wave of hurt flashed across Lucifer’s face. Pierce looked away, pointedly ignoring the sharp stab of shame he felt.

“Yes. Well. By the time you get there, you’ll have hardly any time to rest before we are due at the station. I won’t have this crime go unpunished simply because you weren’t in fit condition to work.” Lucifer said, temper flashing. “Sleep here. Shower. I’ll even have someone run out for your clothes. You don’t have to worry about your virtue tonight Lieutenant.”

“Fine,” Pierce ground out. It did make more sense and he was really tired. Both from being up till almost 5am and from dying repeatedly. 

He stripped his shirt back off and followed Lucifer to his bed, stopping only briefly to set an alarm for a couple of hours. He was asleep before his head even hit the ridiculously soft pillow, with Lucifer not far behind.

And when they woke scant hours later wrapped firmly together, neither saw fit to mentioned it


	3. Chapter 3

Chloe had a hard time falling back to sleep after her brief conversation with Pierce. She knew how Lucifer felt about LUX. Having something like this happen would certainly have him rattled. Despite Pierce’s firm suggestion to wait until her morning shift to start in on the case, she would have been at LUX already if it weren’t for the fact that it would leave Trixie home alone.

She eventually decided to forgo returning to sleep. Instead she called Ella, requesting her to come in early as well, which she agreed to immediately as soon as she was filled in on the few details she had. Then, she busied herself getting Trixie’s things ready. 

As soon as Trixie was safely on her bus, she booked it to work. Ella had beaten her there and was already busy with toxicology reports. She didn’t see Pierce or Lucifer anywhere. 

“The drugs that were loaded into this girl would have killed a baby elephant.” Ella stated as Chloe walked through the door of her lab. “Even without the bruising, indicating a struggle, there isn’t any way that this was done unintentionally. Some of the chemical compounds don’t even make sense together.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked, leaning across the table, bypassing the technical reports Ella was sorting through and instead pulling the crime scene photos towards her.

“Just that this isn’t your usual party mix. There are uppers present, steroids, hallucinogens - the kind of thing that would make a nightmare scary PCP, but then paralytics, and a compound that is more commonly found in blood pressure medication…” Ella trailed off, seemingly deep in thought. “The upshot is, if we get those files from the narcos, then we will have an easy time linking this up with other overdoses if this wasn’t a one time thing.”

“Any word on when we will be getting those files?” Chloe questioned. 

Ella grimaced. “There lies the downside. I called a buddy working in their lab. I requested reports on all fatal overdoses in the last six months and he just laughed at me. Even narrowing down that sample to ODs where it looked like their could have been foul play, he said it would take weeks to be able sort through all the data.”

“Because nobody cares about the murder of a lone junkie.” 

Chloe whirled around at the gruff voice.

Pierce was leaning heavily on the door frame, five o’clock shadow prominent on his face and dark circles below his eyes.

“We care.” Ella asserted forcefully, still smarting over Pierce’s harsh comments weeks ago. “And maybe it would take the guys in narco weeks to come up with anything, but not me. I can do this.”

Pierce gave a small smirk at the attitude. “Easy, Lopez. I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t. Just that I wasn’t shocked to be starting from scratch on this one.” He pushed off the door frame and walked further into the room, circling around to stand next to Chloe, eying the crime scene photos with a more or less indifferent look on his face.

“The drugs themselves aren’t the only angle we have.” Chloe stated. “As soon as Lucifer gets here, we’ll head to the victim’s apartment. See if there is anything that will give us some clues.”

Pierce nodded at that. “I think Lucifer already spoke to her roommate last night. She should be expecting you.”

“Any idea when Lucifer is going to be in?” Chloe questioned. “What time did you end up leaving LUX last night?”

Pierce opened his mouth and shut it again, giving her an uncomfortable look.

Chloe’s brow furrowed. Was the Lieutenant’s face getting red?

She was distracted from that thought by Lucifer breezing in, holding several coffees.

He passed Chloe one first. “Nonfat almond milk latte with caramel drizzle.” He spun towards Ella next, handing her a pink drink with whip cream on top. He smiled winningly at her, “Something more resembling a milkshake than coffee for you.” He stopped short in front of Pierce, pushing the last, large cup at his chest. “And you, coffee. Black. I took the liberty of adding a couple extra shots of espresso. You look like you need it.”

Chloe smothered a half smile at the jibe, glancing at her partner who’d likely been up just as late as Pierce, but still managed to look bright eyed and immaculately put together in one of his suits.

Pierce glowered at him for a moment, but accepted the cup and grudgingly took a sip. He released a low groan, one that sounded almost pornographic to Chloe’s ears.

Lucifer smirked, pulling a flask from his pocket and raised it in mock toast. He took a swig, despite the early hour. “Right. Now that everyone is properly caffeinated, can we please track down and punish whomever is responsible for murdering that girl and defiling my club?” 

Chloe nodded at him. “Let’s start with the victim’s roommate. You met her last night.”

Lucifer nodded. “I’m not certain the girl’s friends will be of much assistance. They were barely coherent when I spoke to them last night.” He furrowed his brow and added almost absently. “I’ll need to speak with Patrick about that, they shouldn’t have been that drunk at LUX.”

“I’m sure they’ve sobered up by now.” Pierce commented, then snarked. “I’m surprised you care about how drunk they were. Free will and all that.”

Lucifer looked up sharply at Pierce. “It isn’t free will if they are drunk past the point of consent.”

Piece bit back an incredulous laugh. “You’re trying to tell me with all the alcohol and drugs you surround yourself with, that you really care about what other people want? That you-”

“Never once have I forced myself on anyone. Ever. No one does anything that they don’t consent to at my club.” Lucifer spat out angrily.

Chloe looked between the two men. Pierce’s expression was as inscrutable as ever, while Lucifer looked torn between outrage and hurt. She wasn’t certain what was going on between her partner and her new boss, but it had definitely put her partner on edge. She tossed a glare at Pierce and grabbed Lucifer’s arm, pulling him towards the door and breaking the odd tableau. “Come on Lucifer. Let’s go see our witness.”

Lucifer retreated with the detective, missing the flash of remorse that crossed Pierce’s face as he exited


	4. Chapter 4

“So are you going to tell me what is going on with you and Pierce?” Chloe questioned, as soon as they made it to her car. 

“He made a deal with the Devil.” Lucifer replied enigmatically. 

Chloe was about fed up with the Devil talk. She wanted a straight answer from her partner for once. For a man that claimed to never lie, Lucifer sure did a lot of obfuscating around the truth. He’d been weird around Pierce from the beginning, but lately it had gotten worse. 

The undercover op they’d gone on had been close to a disaster, but she'd thought there towards the end that the two men had come to some kind of understanding. Bonding over placement of chip dip of all things. 

Since then however, they’d alternated between making little digs and ignoring each other, then sneaking covert glances across the room at each other when they thought no one was watching. It was baffling.

“Can you just be honest with me, Lucifer, for once? Without all your Devil stuff thrown in?” Chloe asked, exasperation clear in her tone. 

Beside her Lucifer shifted restlessly and snorted. “Unfortunately Detective, I think the Lieutenant would have little interest in me if it weren’t for all of my ‘Devil stuff’ as you’ve put it.”

Chloe couldn’t miss the trace of bitterness in his tone at that. She frowned. Lieutenant Pierce had come to the department with a rather impressive resume and reputation, but Palmetto Street had taught her her a few lessons. “Lucifer… Pierce hasn’t asked you to do anything…”

“Corrupt? Immoral? Illegal?” Lucifer suggested when she trailed off, a wicked smirk returning to his face. He waved her off dismissively. “This has nothing to do with him being a dirty cop, if that is where your thoughts have drifted. What he wants is something only for himself and I’ve made a promise to help.”

“What is it?” Chloe asked, diverting her eyes from the traffic ahead towards Lucifer, surprised by the melancholy look on his face.

He met her eyes with a half hearted grin. “I can’t tell you that. And you wouldn’t believe me if I did…. Maybe we should just focus on the case, hmm?” He shifted in his seat, the traces of sadness abruptly gone from his face, a businesslike expression taking over. To Chloe, it looked unnatural and forced. “From what what our unfortunate victim’s friends could tell me last night, the girl, Sophia Verges, was the designated driver of the evening. Not a known drug user. Also not particularly enthusiastic about even attending last night’s festivities. Can’t imagine why, of course. A night at LUX is often the highlight of a young lady’s life, especially if I’m in attendance.”

Chloe couldn’t restrain an eye roll at that. “So how did a non-party girl end up with a lethal dose of drugs in her system in your bathroom?”

“I don’t know, but I certainly intend to find out.” Lucifer replied. 

Chloe arched a brow at that. She’d expect d Lucifer to have some kind of emotional response to the fact that the girl had been killed in his club, but he seemed to be taking it even more personally than she expected. She resolved to keep a closer eye on him for the near future. He was prone to erratic behavior at the best of times after all. 

When they arrived at the apartment complex, Lucifer seemed to have shrugged off whatever mood he’d been in. He led the way up to the second floor apartment with a bounce in his step, Chloe following behind only slightly exasperated by the mercurial mood shifts. 

Confronted with a tear stained face at the door, Lucifer had faltered somewhat, his usual charm not working out so well in the face of a clearly grieving young woman. 

“I just can’t believe she’s gone!” The girl wailed, throwing herself into Lucifer’s arms.

Lucifer shot Chloe a horrified look. “Detective. She is leaking on me.”

“Lucifer, she is upset.” Chloe chided, pushing forward into the apartment and gently disentangling the distraught young woman from Lucifer.

“But this is Armani.” Lucifer whined at her.

Chloe just glared and led the young woman back inside.

Lucifer followed reluctantly, grimacing down at the wet spot on his suit jacket. 

Chloe sat down with the girl on her couch and Lucifer perched on a nearby chair, pointedly staying out of arm reach of the crying girl.

“It’s Becca, isn’t it?” Chloe questioned, while tossing Lucifer an unimpressed look.

The girl nodded. “Yeah.” She sniffled. “Sophia was my best friend.”

Chloe rested an arm on the girl’s leg. “I know that this is very hard for you, Becca. But is there anything at all you can tell us about what happened last night that might help us find who did this? Was there anyone paying special attention to Sophia at the club?”

“N-no. I don’t think so.” She sniffled again, looking distraught. “Sophia was pretty shy. She only came out with us because we begged her to. When she went to the bathroom that was the only time she left my side all night. I should have gone with her! This is my fault!”

“Well now don’t be ridiculous,” Lucifer said, carefully plucking a tissue box off the coffee table between them, giving the used tissues covering the rest of the table a disdainful glance. He thrust the box at Chloe to hand off. “Of course this wasn’t your fault. You didn’t mean for your friend to be hurt. You just wanted her to have a night of fun. The only person responsible is the one that killed her.”

At the word killed, Becca collapsed into a fresh wave of tears and Chloe resigned herself to the fact that these interviews today were likely going to be more hassle than they were worth.

****

Pierce rubbed his eyes in frustration, pulling yet another victim profile out of the rather large stack of files narcotics had dumped on them. He was helping Ella wade through the toxicology reports attached to each file and trying to tune out her non-stop chatter. 

Contrary to what Ms. Charlotte Richards seemed to think, he didn’t get off on bullying his subordinates. He regretted yelling at Ella the way he had, though to be fair, she’d caught him on an admittedly bad day. He’d tried in little ways to make it up to her, which was partly why he was helping her sort through the narcotics reports, though he was still careful to maintain distance.

He couldn’t allow himself to get close to someone like Ella, she was too much the little sister, bright eyed and trusting, too much like many of his long since deceased daughters. Allowing himself to care for her would gut him when she died. 

Fortunately for him, he’d perfected the art of being an asshole over time. Like with Dan. And being a dick to him had the fringe benefit of giving Pierce a reputation around the station right off the bat as a hard ass not looking to make friends.

Ella was the only one still trying.

And there was the rub, because deep down, Pierce knew he didn’t really want her to stop. So he played the same game he’d been playing for centuries, close, but not too close. And always with the goal to leave before left. 

An excited exclamation from Ella disrupted his musings.

“Look at this!” 

Pierce accepted the papers being excitedly shoved under his nose and pulled them down to where he could read the report. The drugs in the toxicology report were a match for what was found in their dead girl’s system. Pierce smirked. “Nice work Lopez.”

“That’s not all. This case has four murders that all have the same drug being used. If we can find who did this, we’ll be bringing down a serial killer.” Ella said, pulling the files Pierce had been going through out of the way and setting the one she had found in front of him.

Pierce flashed her the grim approximation of a smile, eagerly opening the folder and pouring through the contents. “Look at these girls. All about the same height and coloring as the girl from last night. This is good work Lopez…” 

Pierce turned a page in the file and froze. There was a somewhat fuzzy picture of a bald man with a goatee taped to a witness statement. Despite the poor picture quality, Pierce recognized John easily. Fuck. What mess was he going to have to clean up now?


	5. Chapter 5

Linda wasn’t used to somber and introspective when it came to Lucifer. Not that she didn’t think him capable of it, just that it wasn’t a side that she saw much.

So when he came into their weekly session without the usual bluster or charm, sitting quietly and leaning forward, chin resting in his hands, she knew something had changed. 

His first question gave her serious pause.

“What do you say to your patients that have decided that life is no longer worth living?”

Linda was taken aback by the question. She knew Lucifer was quite capable of self harm. She’d helped Amenadiel pitch Lucifer’s wings into a dumpster after all, but she’d never once equated that behavior with a genuine desire to die. She sat forward and questioned “Lucifer… has something happened to make you doubt your life here on Earth?”

Lucifer gave her a startled look. “What makes you ask-No. No… Surprisingly for once, we aren’t talking about me.”

“Well, that is a relief.” Linda said, easing back in her chair. “Who are we talking about then?”

“I’ve made a new… friend, I suppose.” Lucifer allowed, after a moment’s contemplation. “But our relationship is complicated.”

“Oh?” She questioned.

“Well, for starters,” Lucifer began dramatically. “He is the new police Lieutenant and therefore the Detective’s boss. Also, he is immortal. Cursed by my Father. Doomed to walk the Earth, marked and alone for eternity, etcetera, etcetera.”

Linda arched a brow. “Does this immortal have a name?” 

“Well, his current identity is Marcus Pierce, but you’ve probably heard of him by a different name. Cain, son of Adam.”

“Cain? As in the Bible?” Linda questioned, having difficulty wrapping her brain around the concept, despite sitting across from the Devil. “As in Cain and Abel?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” Lucifer nodded.

“And your new friend, Cain, is trying to kill himself?”

“He’s been trying to kill himself for over a thousand years. That part is nothing new. No, now I’ve agreed to help kill him.”

It was a testament to how much she’d already gone through with Lucifer that she was only mildly horrified by that revelation. “I thought you said this man was your friend. Why would you agree to kill him?”

“Well, I made him a deal. I gave him my word. And I believe he is my friend and this is his deepest desire. Doesn’t that make me doubly obliged to help?”

“Well. I think if you consider him a true friend, then yes, you do have an obligation to help him.” Linda stated. “But Lucifer, are you truly certain that killing him is the best way to do that? Is that why you asked about what to say to someone who feels like life isn’t worth living?”

Lucifer shrugged, gracelessly. “I don’t know. All I know is that the more I try to kill Pierce, the more I come to find that I really don’t want to succeed.”

____________

 

Pierce left the precinct as soon as he could manage without arousing any suspicion, with the photo he’d found of John tucked hidden inside his jacket. He was angry. John had given a statement for one of the murders that now had a tie to his current case.

He had few rule for any of the criminals he’d made shady deals with, the ones that knew he was immortal. They keep far, far away from him unless he asked otherwise and they stayed off of police radar. 

John wasn’t stupid and, as far as Pierce knew, serial killings and party drugs weren’t really his style. John was more of a bruiser - aggravated assault, armed robbery - he was your guy, so how he got mixed up with this case, was anyone’s guess.

Pierce was definitely going to figure it out though, and ideally before the word Sinnerman started getting tossed around the precinct again.

His other protégé’s exploits had definitely ended up backfiring. Some of it, Pierce had asked for, even encouraged. Other parts, had gone off the rails, which was why Pierce had no trouble shooting him when the time came, before the blind idiot could carry out his own stupid plan. 

He left a message for John to meet him at the usual spot, as soon as possible, no excuses, no exceptions.

John was waiting for him under an overpass off I-5 lounging against a beat up convertible, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. 

John looked startled when Pierce hopped off his bike and the first thing he did was grab him by the throat. 

“The hell, boss?!” John exclaimed, failing in Pierce’s grasp, the cigarette falling out of his mouth.

Pierce slammed him up against the car door and shoved the picture at him wordlessly. 

John took the picture, examined it with a grimace of distaste. He looked back up at Pierce, denial on his lips. “I didn’t kill that girl.”

“You’ve got about a minute to explain, before I pin her murder and about six other on you regardless.” Pierce threatened, pushing away from him.

“Easy, boss,” John held up his hands, placatingly. “She was a loose end for the mob. I was strictly clean up, they paid me to hide the body. I have a contact that told me about a few dead girls that looked sort of like her so I staged her death to fit in with the others. Hid her in plain sight.”

Pierce was reluctantly impressed. It wasn’t a half bad idea. “How did you get the toxicology reports to match?”

John chuckled. “Come on Lieutenant. Haven’t you heard how terrible the corruption in the narcotics division is around here? I paid a lab tech a couple hundred to fake the report and the body was cremated.”

Pierce pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you had contact with the police after providing a witness statement for a body you planted, and you paid off someone working for the LAPD? Is that about the gist of it?”

“Pretty much, boss,” John confirmed with a nod, seemingly unaware of Pierce’s annoyance.

“John,” Pierce said slowly. “This case is now active. My detectives are working it. I want you to get out of town until there is some kind of resolution.”

“So lay low till the heat’s off then head back?” John questioned. “Cause I think I found a guy to fence some of those artifacts you showed me.”

Pierce stared at him for a second, considering. He thought about the past several weeks. He’d been busy at the station, spending most evenings letting Lucifer try to kill him, and generally had dropped any of his former, more illegal extra curriculars. 

It hit him suddenly that it had been months since he’d put any effort into planning his next move, working on his next identity for when it became time for Marcus Pierce to die. The urgency he usually felt just wasn’t there. “No John, I want you to shut it down. Go back to Chicago or wherever you want. I’m dealing myself out.”

John’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding boss.”

“No. I’m not.” Pierce said, with finality. “I don’t want to see you ever again John.”

John’s eyes narrowed, he grabbed Pierce’s arm. “Hey man, I’ve got a good thing going here. You can’t just tell me to-”

Pierce grabbed John’s wrist and pulled his hand off, feeling bone grind underneath his hand. He gave a vicious smirk as John cried out. “Don’t forget who I am, John. If I tell you to go, you’ll go. I don’t want to hear anything about the Sinnerman in Los Angeles ever again. If I do, I know exactly who I’m coming for.”

John cradled his hand against his chest as Pierce released it. “Alright, alright. I’ll shut it down.” 

Pierce just stared back, crossing his arms over his chest. John took the hint and climbed back into his car. He sped off without looking back. 

Pierce watched his car drive off, contemplating his decision. However, he was distracted from his musings by his phone. He pulled it out, expecting a call or message relating to the case. Instead what he saw was a simple text comprised only of emojis.

A tumbler glass. A skull face. A devil. After a beat, a question mark popped up as well.

Pierce found himself smiling in spite of himself. He typed out a quick reply and hit send before he thought better of it. 

**_Be there in 20_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is most welcome. Thank you to all the lovely commenters :)


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